


Stray Cat

by QueenoftheHobbits



Series: Soft Thighs Series [60]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, overweight reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8527477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: When a strange and injured man comes through your window you take it upon yourself to help him...you just don’t expect him to keep coming back.





	

By far the strangest thing that had ever happened in your life was having a strange, yet attractive, man climb through your window, hand holding his abdomen and blood quite apparently spilling from a wound. Now most people might have screamed, called the police or an ambulance...you weren’t most people, maybe it was the fact that he looked so sad or the fact that you knew more than your fair share of first aid...whatever it was it had you dragging him to sit on your toilet seat. 

“Do you need help getting your shirt off?” You called out to him as you rummaged around in your draws for your first aid kit. You hadn’t needed to use it in a while and it was found underneath a pile of other bits and bobs. 

A grunt of pain let you knew that yes, yes he did. Even if his apparent pride wouldn’t let him acknowledge that. You placed the first aid kit on the sink and watched him struggle for a moment before kicking his legs apart and stepping closer to him to help. Every time you moved it he’d grunt, you didn’t blame him you only wished you could have made it a little less painful.

He was heavily scarred and broad underneath his shirt, but what held your attention (other than the metal prosthetic) was the long gash across his stomach. It had your breath becoming shaky because he really needed a proper doctor. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to hospital?” You searched through the first aid kit as you asked. It was a time in your life when you thanked your lucky stars that you wanted to be a nurse as a kid or else you’d never know what to do with a cut that large. 

“No.” There was a firmness in his voice mixed with how deep it was that told you that that no wasn’t negotiable. 

“Alright,...” You waited for him to tell you his name while you threaded a needle for later and started grabbing a towel, alcohol and the like. He’d hate you in a minute for the pain he was about to go through, but he’d thank you later. 

“James.” It sounded foreign to his tongue and you were sure that he normally went by another name on that aspect alone, nonetheless you took his word for it and continued your job.

It took a while to clean and sew the wound, by the time you were done you were covered in blood and your sink was a crack from how hard he gripped it. You didn’t blame him, however, simply put his apologies away in a locked box. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He wanted to leave you knew that much, didn’t want to stay longer than necessary. Part of you was sad about that fact, something about James was calming and reassuring despite the fact he was a stranger...and the fact that he look strong enough to break you in half. 

He nodded and you watched him leave, this time out the door before cleaning up the mess made and changing your clothes. You would sleep well that night. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to keep coming back. It surely wasn’t your looks or at least you didn’t think so; you were far too soft, too round, with rolls, and marks...and it couldn’t be that he kept getting hurt because the majority of the time that he rolled through your window he was unharmed. So you couldn’t quite fathom what he wanted. He was like a stray cat coming back time and time again after that one time you fixed him. 

You didn’t mind. He was nice to look at and once you got him talking he was nice to talk to as well, his voice was soothing. Deep, low, and it made you fall asleep some nights and when that happened you’d wake up tucked into your bed. Each time James had obviously carried you to bed and tucked you in like a child. 

Sometimes he’d show up during the day, you’d make him lunch and talk about whatever he was comfortable talking about. Sometimes he came at night you’d make him dinner or on the odd occasion he’d bring food with him, and you’d sit on the sofa and chat until you fell asleep. 

He quickly became an important part of your life, the stray cat that you held such affection for. Too much affection arguably, even more so when he told you his story one night. The fear in his eyes at the possibility of anger and rejection...but all he got from you was sadness. It hurt to know just what horrible things had happened to him, and to know how hard he was trying to redeem himself, how gentle he was. Because he was gentle, the type of gentle that carefully picked you up and tried not wake you as he put you to bed, the type of gentle that stroked patterns onto your wide calf as you talked, the type of gentle that never raised his voice around you.

But the affection grew and each day you wished you could fall asleep with him and wake up next to him, you started to wonder what it would be like to kiss him and be kissed by him, to touch him and to be touched by him, to do all these romantic and domestic things with him...and it hurt because despite all the confidence you tried to have in life there were still those niggling doubts. That your stray cat, that Bucky, that James, just wouldn’t be interested in you because you were too big, too soft, too this and too that or not enough of something else entirely. You knew it was stupid. That if he didn’t like it wouldn’t because you weren’t good enough but rather because he simply didn’t. But doubts had followed you throughout your life and sometimes it was hard to ignore them. 

“Hey, Bucky” You gave him a key weeks ago, simply because the window was getting old and it was about time he used the front door. You were cooking dinner, you’d started making twice what you usually would since Bucky started showing up most nights. 

“Hi, doll.” That had been a new development as well, the pet names...you loved them, but they made the task of not falling in love with him infinitely harder. 

You weren’t sure how to broach the topic of feelings, but you knew that it was getting ridiculous not talking about them and that it was making it harder for you to get to sleep at night.

“Bucky...can we talk?” You put the lid on the stew pot and turned around to face him, he was sat at the kitchen table. His hair was pulled back into a bun, something he’d started doing recently and he looked tired, tired but happy...you just hoped that this wouldn’t ruin everything. 

“Sure...” He sat up straighter and you wondered what he could possibly be thinking, what he thought you were going to say. Probably, almost definitely, not what you actually said. 

“I...I have to say this, well I don’t, but if I don’t i’m probably never going to sleep again and i’ll think about it all the time. This is really hard, but...”

“You want me to leave, right? I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He started getting up and you stood there stunned for a moment that he assumed the problem was that you didn’t want him around.

“No!” You almost apologised for the shock that must have given Bucky as you yelled. You started moving closer, “I mean...that’s not the problem, you’re not a problem, James.”

“Then what is?” 

“I...I have feelings for you and I one hundred percent understand that you don’t feel the same way, but I had to say it...I...I can’t keep it bottled up.” You take a deep breath and hold it, watching him. Part of you wants to close your eyes and run away, part of you doesn’t want to see his reaction...but the other part of you needs to know. 

“Oh...” There’s silence for a time and you start wondering if he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, if you’d no longer see him all because of your stupid feelings. “Would you like to go on a date?”

“What?” You’re confused...why would he ask you on a date? Of course you wanted to go on a date with him...was he pitying you?

“I...I like you, why else did you think I started coming round all the time? I barely knew you...but I like you and if you like me too then i’d love to go on a date with you.” 

“Oh...well, i’d really like that as well.”


End file.
